Two PEAs in a Pod
by GreenWithAwesome
Summary: Jason Grace: a crime-fighting superhero in organisation People with Extraordinary Ability, or P.E.A. Piper McLean... the exact opposite: a freelance thief. Their views are wide apart, but fear of a torrid world ruled by psychotic villain Gaia causes an unlikely alliance to form... but are they so different? Can they save the world? Jasiper, Percabeth, others. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Full Summary: Jason Grace is a famous superhero, working for People with Extraordinary Ability, or P.E.A., preventing crime and preserving peace. Piper McLean... does the exact opposite, as a freelance jewel thief. Their differences are many, their views wide apart, but fear of a torrid world causes an unlikely alliance to birth from the ashes of their mutual hatred. The ground is shaking, a new foe rising from the fissures; only the mutual agreement that a world under psychotic villain Gaia's rule might as well not be a world at all, draws them together... but maybe they aren't as different as they thought. Can this duo, and their friends, stop Gaia and save the world? Jasiper, Percabeth, Frazel, some Caleo and Solangelo. Superhero AU.**

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"Stop right there, thief!"

A brief moment in time past in which Piper thought to herself: _when would I ever stop at those words_?

She turned around, her combat boots clacking on the wooden planks of the museum floor. The sound echoed, bouncing off the high walls, glass casings, and exhibit placards. Jittery nerves were all that she felt, even as she stared straight into the eyes of her opponent, the torch in his hands fizzing her vision.

Piper had tried her hardest to remain unseen, silent, one with the shadows… shame she'd forgotten about the security guards and their patrols. Even bigger shame that she couldn't pull the _I-was-locked-in_ card, with the massive sapphire jutting out from her drawstring backpack.

Piper didn't say anything. The security guard wavered – his hand hovering over what appeared to be a Taser gun.

"Put your belongings on the ground, and I won't have to use force."

She scoffed, "Yeah, er, not likely," his hand whipped to his side, the Taser out before she could blink. Luckily, her mouth flowed into motion, "Put the Taser on the ground."

Though the reluctance remained stone on his face, and his eyes glittered with panic, he placed the Taser on the ground as she instructed, and froze.

"Now, stay right there. Don't move. And don't call your friends – including the police – until I leave. Gotcha'?"

"Yes, ma'am." Even the very words he spoke ebbed along like river with rocks sticking out from the surface. Piper smiled, though she didn't know how it would appear from behind a mask, and swung on her heel to another exhibit. Laden jewels of luminous colour enraptured her attention, and she ended up pocketing those too. How much would these go for on the black market?

"M-ma'am…?" the petrified security guard stuttered. Piper reigned in a sigh and turned to him.

"Yes?"

"You're that famous jewel thief, aren't you?" she saw his bones shake like a graveyard awakening, "The one they call… Aphrodisiac."

The name felt funny to her lips still. When she thought of herself, she was simply Piper McLean. But since taking on this job to earn more money… everyone had come to fear the name Aphrodisiac. The words were littered over panicked journal articles, brought to awareness on news channels, whispered amongst people on the streets. She couldn't see the fuss – it wasn't as if she _killed_ anyone – but it still brought uneasy tension when the topic turned to thieves that hadn't been caught.

Piper couldn't say she even liked the name, _Aphrodisiac_, but given what powers her voice could do… well, she couldn't think of anything more appropriate.

"Correct," from her pocket, she produced a card with a scribbled attempt at a signature. Somewhere, Piper had seen thieves do this in the films. She thought it would add a little mystery to her thieving trips. Though it was difficult to see in the dark, _Aphrodisiac_ could be seen written on one side, the letters looped and elegant.

She threw the card at the ground and he squealed, as if she unleashed a death trap.

"Have fun trying to find me." And with that, jewels in bag, Piper ran for the window.

**=#=#=#=**

"She's done it again."

Jason Grace slammed his fists onto the table. If it hadn't been made of reinforced steel, it probably would have crumpled underneath him.

"How?" he said, staring at his friend with confused eyes, "How could she have stolen _more_ jewels? Where does she even _find_ these things?"

The boy opposite him shrugged, and crossed his arms over his chest, "Don't ask me. I ain't a woman."

The problem with being a superhero for New York City meant that every piece of crime – every scent of bad will – had to be eradicated, stopped in its tracks. Every single bit. It was hard-pressed for Jason to have a day off – sleep in with the covers over his head, do nothing until the sun descended. That, plus all normal drama school provided, Jason had to say his life was pretty busy right now.

And now this _Aphrodisiac_ character was making it worse.

He swiped the newspaper article from the table, "_Aphrodisiac Exhibits Skill Once More_. I can't keep up with her," he exhaled a sigh, and slid the newspaper back to his friend, "Each time she steals something, everyone goes crazy. Then they aim their craziness at me."

"Dude," said his friend, "You know why. Lady Grey assigned her capture to _you_. If you aren't pulling your weight, the public are gonna' rage and moan on Internet forums with _Blond Lightning Sucks_ all over it."

Jason looked up, with a cold glare, "Are you even on my side?"

The boy threw his arms up, "Of course I am! I'm your partner! I get hate for this stuff as much as you do!"

"Yeah, but no-one ever names threads as _Blond Lightning and Wrench Suck_, do they?"

Wrench paused, "… Yeah, okay, no. But I still help you. If we want to capture this girl, we gotta' try harder," he darted his eyes to the door of the room, "Preferably before Lady Grey gets her hands on it."

Jason followed his gaze to the door. The room was small – much like a police interrogation room, with a table, and a few chairs, but minus the double-way mirror. Pictures and writings stuck to the walls, with arrows drawn in every direction. Jason would have liked to say that his drawing board was pretty good, but the fact that they lacked even a picture of Aphrodisiac made that a difficult thing to say.

"Let's be honest, Lady Grey will have woken up this morning, breathed in the fresh clean air of her nice apartment, and then turned on the news to see commuters screaming and police and wit's end with Aph," he sighed, "She's gonna' kill us."

"_Kill_ isn't a strong enough word. Maybe _mutilate_ is more appropriate."

A small knock at the door distracted his thoughts. Jason looked at Wrench – but Wrench raised an eyebrow and shot him a look that said _nu-uh-am-I-opening-that-door_.

He traipsed over to the door and opened it a crack – relief washed over him when he realised it wasn't Lady Grey.

"'Sup," said a boy, older than both Jason and Wrench by a few years, "How's the search going?"

"Shut up, Riptide," Jason opened the door further to allow him to walk inside, "We're actually pretty peeved she got away with it. Again."

Riptide pouted, "Man, I told you. It's _Anaklusmos_ now. It sounds more exciting."

"Yeah, no. It'll never catch on, _Riptide_," Wrench said with a smirk. Riptide shot him a glare.

"Anyway, what's the deal with this?" he pointed to the newspaper with a frown, "She robbed the Museum of the City of New York – might as well have been _royalty_. Didn't I hear you guys put some protective measures around that?"

"Yeah, we did," said Wrench, sitting down on the chairs, "But she managed to avoid all of my traps. Like, I don't even know how! There's no way she could have disabled that stuff by herself! I had an AI installed!"

"Well, whatever she did to disable it, it worked. Three security guards, all wrapped around her finger until they left. No-one can explain how she works – she just says stuff, and they do it."

"Sounds like some freaky Voodoo," said Wrench.

Riptide smirked then, "What're you gonna' tell Lady Grey?" Wrench and Jason looked at one another.

"We're hoping she's ill."

Riptide shook his head, "Well, she's not. Saw her this morning."

"Oh. Great," said Jason.

"Can't you stick around when she comes?" asked Wrench, the pleading in his voice saccharine, "She's fond of you. If you're around, she'll go easy on us."

"I don't even think my endless charm could stop her when she's angry," he replied, running a hand through his dark hair and staring anywhere but into their eyes, "Sorry, dudes…" he suddenly smiled, "But don't worry, Blond, Wrench. If she goes ballistic, mention that I'll be up to help you."

But Jason shook his head, "I appreciate the help, man, but you have your hands full with Gaia. Something like this would probably steal all of your free time."

Riptide frowned, "You sure? I haven't heard Gaia in weeks. My search has run dry."

"But she's still out there," reminded Jason, "Waiting to find her next victim. Thanks for the offer, man, but you should work on your case, and we'll work on ours."

Riptide shrugged, "Whatever, if that's cool. But if you need help," he droped a wink and a weird fist-pump, "I'm all ears." He sauntered out of the room without so much as another word. Jason flopped to the chair, hands on face.

"Ugh, sometimes that guy. Thinks he's the bee's knees."

Wrench shrugged, mooching to the cabinet by the wall and rummaging through the drawers, "I dunno', man. I think he just wants to help," he plucked out a wad of paper, but soon shoved it back into the drawer, "And anyway, he _is_ the bee's knees. Turned in so many criminals people wanna' give him the key to the city."

There was no denying Riptide's awesome. Still, the thought of him brandishing a giant key next on the Brooklyn Bridge made him nauseous, "Meanwhile, we're stuck here, trying to find a girl who has no face and no specific direction. It's like we're fighting the wind here. By the time we get to the scene of the crime, she's gone."

"It's funny, 'coz you have power over wind," Jason shot Wrench a glare, and he blew out a sigh, "Tough crowd. Just making a joke." He slid another file from the cabinet and tossed it onto the table, in front of Jason, "Okay dude. We're gonna' conquer. Let's look over her previous thefts again, and try to find a connection."

"Which we won't because we've done so several times."

"Hey. At least I'm trying," he opened the file and a slew of papers poured out, "Let's start."

**=#=#=#=**

Now Jason was exhausted.

After scouring the nooks, crannies and everything between for maybe even a hint of a pattern, nothing turned up. Her attacks were so random and non-directional – just like the wind, Jason had said. Even worse, the yelling Lady Grey gave him sent his head into splitting aches.

Now he plodded home, slaving through the noise of New York to reach his home block in the east of town. He had Aphrodisiac to deal with, and a truckload of homework. He wondered whether Riptide and Wrench had to suffer this, at whatever school they went to. Sometimes he wished they went to the same school, just so they could cheat together.

Still, nothing was going to get the work done. Overhead, he could hear the yells and screams of giddy New Yorkers, calling cabs for a grand night out. Jason wanted to slip into the cab with them – maybe if they were so drunk, he could pull of a few superpowers – and they'd have no recollection of it in the morning. That'd be a great way to pile off the stress.

He turned a corner, tuning out the sounds of traffic and smoke curling in his nose, before stopping at the gates of Hell. Or, close enough. If he thought having Internet forums named in his dishonour was bad enough, _Pluto's Orphanage_ was even suckier. His poor excuse of a home.

Maybe if he had a loving family to return to, he wouldn't be dreading sleeping in his rock of a bed. In a few months, Jason could finally get his own place – since no family wanted to adopt him (and for what reason? Jason didn't know. He was adorable, just look at him!) – and finally bring some organisation to his life. School, superhero duties. No pain in the _inguen_ hall matrons to moan about curfew.

Being older, and with a 'job', Jason could stay out later. But not too late. Otherwise hall matron Whiny June would have a fit.

As he pushed the code to open the door, Jason figured anything – anything – could improve his life right now.

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**Hello everyone! GreenWithAwesome is back!**

**Anyway, this is a new story. Sorry about the summary up there: I hate FF's character limit - it really is detrimental to writing a decent summary. I will probably write this on a whim, since I am busy, so depending on feedback, I may not continue this story. It'll probably be broken into weird chunks as well - again, don't really have anything in mind except the basic concept, lol.**

**So, yeah. Like? Dislike? Drop a review, favourite or follow! And thanks for reading!**

**Until next time,**

**~ GreenWithAwesome**

**I found the image on the Goog. If you want me to remove it, please message me.**


	2. Chapter 2

**GwA is back! Hope you enjoy!**

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Jason really didn't expect anything less.

As he dared to take a step into Pluto's Orphanage, the stuffy warmth enveloping him like belt too tight, the smarmy face of Whiny June jammed into his vision, yanking herself from the lobby on the right. Despite her age, which was probably around grandmother levels, healthy locks of black hair tied loosely into a bun. A fake lotus flower pin held the strands in place, though it had yellowed and frayed from overuse. It was a crying shame this need to appear youthful didn't translate over to her inane tradition of curfews.

"What time do you call this?"

Jason wasn't really in the mood to throw out subtle insults, but he pulled up his sleeve to check his watch.

"9:59 pm, miss," he said, injecting no enthusiasm into his voice, "So I'm still on time."

Whiny June bore her teeth, and pelted the staff she held onto the wooden floor. As if she wasn't austere enough to frighten the newcomers without it.

"_My_ watch reads 10:02 pm," she sneered, "And that's late."

"Well," Jason held back his annoyance, "_My_ watch is synchronised with the giant one in Grand Central Station, _miss_." It had to be – otherwise a misreading with his superhero duties could cost lives.

Matron June narrowed her eyes, glancing from her watch to his. Eventually, she breathed, "Well, then, I'll take that and check tomorrow. If that's true, I'll let you off. If not…" she smiled, folding her hand over. Jason sighed – audibly – and unstrapped the watch from his wrist. She took it with a hungry look in her eyes.

"And watch your tone, Grace," she shuffled back towards the right room – his stomach twisted into knots as he heard her mutter, "No wonder no one wants you."

He inhaled a long, laborious breath. He didn't want to lash out at Whiny June, as much as she deserved it. That would blow his cover, and he had far more important things to worry about than cranky old hags stealing his belongings.

Without another word, Jason breezed up the staircas, moulding with the left side of the room – rickety as he climbed – to the seventh floor. The eldest boys' dorm room. The corridors and layout were painted in earthy colours – blacks, greys, browns, dull greens – and ordained with portraits of previous owners of the orphanage. It had become strangely comforting to him though they projected no sense of home. Before long, he had jammed his key into his room, and shut the door behind him.

The darkness had swelled in his absence, leaving him in hues of indigo – until he turned the light on. Then, he could marvel at his box of a room, plain bark-coloured walls rounding the wooden desk, chair, bed, drawers and wardrobe. It wasn't much, but at least it was his own. Sometimes, Jason liked to imagine what it would be like to be a rich kid, raised on silver spoons – but the more he fantasised, the worse reality hit him in the face when the handles of his drawers fell off.

If everyone knew he was Blond Lightning, he'd would have a one-way ticket to luxury. But, as much as the thought pained him, he knew he had to keep his identity secret. Lest he risk the lives of every around him – yes, even Whiny June had some value, however hard she tried to challenge it.

_Life of a superhero_, he thought callously, as he traipsed to his desk to brandish his unfinished homework, _what a great way to live_.

**=#=#=#=**

"Hmmm…"

Piper waited. But nothing followed.

"… 'Hmmm'?" she prompted.

The man held up a hand, but only to push up the gangster hat that slid down onto his concealed face, "Give me a sec', cupcake. It ain't easy putting a price on quality like this."

Piper's dealer wasn't a man one would expect to be involved in the black market business of bartering jewels. He was a short man – stout, a moustache curling around the visible parts of face, his eyes a wild forest fire of suspicion and doubt. If he had an Italian accent, Piper would have assumed he were part of the mafia.

He fingered the sapphire with gloved hands, raking in its entire appearance with intrigue.

"Two million dollars," he breathed, "No deal."

Piper choked on air, "What?! It's a fair price!"

The Dealer gently placed the sapphire back into the drawstring bag. She could hear it knock against the multiple other jewels inside.

"Look, cupcake. I'd take the offer, but finding a seller willing to nab something as gung-ho as these babies will be a tough crowd. And I need the cash to survive. I have a wife and kid to feed."

"How will it be _more_ difficult? These are the rarest jewels I've stolen," she seethed, trying her hardest to restrain her charmspeak, "There will always be some guy who wants to buy it!"

"Yeah, you're right, there will always be," the Dealer rummaged in his own bag then, and pulled out a crumpled newspaper. In the night time of an unlit alleyway near the western borders of the city, the location of most of their deals, it was difficult to read – but she could make out the headline: _Aphrodisiac Exhibits Skill Once More_, "But you're gaining credibility now. Police are gonna' be searching high and low for these suckers," he jiggled the bag, "So selling vendors something as high-profile throws them in the dung heap, if you're caught."

"Which I _won't_," she reiterated.

"That's what my last guy said," the Dealer shoved the newspaper back into his bag, and flung it over his shoulder, "Until the guys at P.E.A. found him."

Piper's face darkened. Being caught by PEA would be her worst nightmare.

"PEA aren't going to find me either," she spoke, the conviction in her voice even surprising her, "They can send any of their 'People with Extraordinary Abilities' my way, but I'll just tell them to leave."

The Dealer sighed then, his breath causing a wisp to cloud the air. In the distance, Piper could hear the noisy night life of New York resurrecting from hiatus, and she knew it wouldn't be long before some drunken schmuck ended up stumbling down their way. She scowled, about to speak, but the Dealer did so first.

"Look, cupcake, I like you. You got street smarts. But unless you have something I can pass on, _safely_, to my clients, I ain't interested."

Piper liked the Dealer too. He was sort of… classically cool, in a way. Ever since Piper had become interested in the thieving business, she'd kept up her game with him by her side. They weren't partners, but just good business professionals, trying to make their way in the world – and for that, she restrained her usage of charmspeak on him. It seemed unfair.

Inwardly, she scoffed. So much for _no honour amongst thieves._

"Well, what am I supposed to do with them?" she said, taking the bag back from him and throwing them over her shoulder. The jewels left a heavy burden on her back to bear, "Find someone else? _Put them back_?"

The Dealer snorted, "Sure, if you got the guts. Bet PEA's shoved some more advanced technology to stop you from going back by now," Piper couldn't think of anything more advanced than the implemented AI system – yet she'd still walked all over it using only words, "I can hook you up with some of my contacts, but I can't guarantee they'd be willing to take them either. And they might… er, not just want the jewels."

She'd heard stories about his 'other contacts'. Thank whatever deity existed she'd found her dealer first, and not them. She didn't like the idea of being permanently blackmailed into an unholy cycle of thieving. She liked doing it on her own terms.

"No, it's fine. I'll… think of something," she said.

In a sudden movement, a group of people walked passed the alleyway entrance, ignorant of what was happening between the walls. Their voices wakened the air around, before melting back into the usual hustle bustle. Piper spoke again, her breath hitched in whispers.

"Guess that's all we have to discuss."

The Dealer nodded, "Guess you're right. I'll see you around, Aphro."

He headed to towards the light, the shining signs of New York capturing the entrance of the alleyway in neon reflections.

"Later, Dealer," she mumbled, disappointed. Before she could regret her decision, she headed the opposite way, the alleyway fully embracing her in darkness.

**=#=#=#=**

Obviously, the doings of Piper's nightly rounds was hush-hush to… well, everyone.

Sometimes she considered telling some of her school friends, but she doubted they'd understand, even if she influenced them with her voice as well.

As she shed her gear, peeling the mask from her face and stuffing it into her backpack along with the jewels, Piper felt an odd sense of relief. She liked stealing, to some extent, but the whole Aphrodisiac thing made her head spin. She was a wanted criminal, an outlaw, a name newspapers liked to use to strike fear into the public. It started as something to do, a hobby – but became bigger than she'd ever thought.

Now, as she stood outside of the family mansion, she was just regular Piper McLean.

Or as regular as she could be.

She pressed the bell on the wall, surrounding her home with a protective casing. The gates spiralled higher than twice Piper's height, the spokes sharpened and uninviting to intruders. She pressed the bell again as cold began to numb her fingers, and instantly, the assistant answered.

"Hello? McLean residence?" said Jane – the world's most annoying assistant.

Piper sighed, "It's me, Jane."

She heard a curt cough at the other end of the line, "Forgot your key again?"

"Yeah," she said, glancing wistfully at the smaller gate to her side. Jane sighed again, and the buzzer went dead.

The gates shifted, mechanically bending backwards to display the front area. It opened to a huge driveway, winding up the green hill to the fountain in front of the house. A sprawling mansion stole the rest of the sky, towering with tall rotundas and floor-length windows. Columns of pure white marble held the structure together. Piper used to think of it like a castle, but, though extravagant, wasn't quite at that level.

She strode up the path, double-checking that her bag didn't produce evidence of her adventures. Before she knew it, she was up the steps and by the front door. Jane opened it as she approached, beckoning her in with rapid hand movements.

"Quick, it's cold!" she snapped – Piper hurried along until she was inside, and immediately went for the stairs.

"Excuse me," said Jane, grinding Piper to a halt, "Where have you been?" She wore a classic business suit – pencil skirt, blouse, blazer – in a dull crimson colour that contrasted with her blonde hair. Her pointed expression did nothing to help Piper along.

"Friends," said Piper – Jane rolled her eyes.

"Again? Aren't your friends sick of you by now?" Piper had every mind to charmspeak her to unemployment, but knew that, again, it wasn't really fair.

"No," she said, "We go out a lot."

"Well," said Jane. Piper noticed the iPad snug in her arms, "I'm afraid that's going to change."

Piper blanched, "What?" Did she know..?

Jane's frown didn't loosen, "Your father has seen your last report card. English – D. Maths – D. Physics – E. Everything else is below par as well."

Piper still had a good reason to turn pale, "Oh."

"You know what that means?" though Piper nodded, Jane still said, "Pocket money taken away. Again. How you still have the money to go out with friends-"

"We don't spend any money," Piper said quickly, "I just go around their houses and chill with them. It doesn't cost anything."

"Yes, well," Jane adjusted her jacket, "It appears your father doesn't want you seeing your friends anymore either. They are too much of a distraction. You've failed your latest school tests, Piper," she looked to her, "If you don't pull your socks up, your father is going to send you to another school."

She gulped down the idea. Another school. She'd only become used to this one.

"-And that may cause an inconvenient change to his schedule, to come down here to organise all that," she looked down to her iPad again, and tapped at the screen as if tapping a xylophone, "He's in Pasadena right now. Do you know your father is a busy man?"

"Yes," said Piper through gritted teeth. Her bag felt heavier.

"Mmm," she replied, "Well, then. Better started acting like you know."

Piper didn't grace her with a response. She hurled herself up the stairs and through several hallways until she was safely in the vicinity of her own room. She knew she could try harder at school, but since she saw her father Tristan so little, failing seemed to be the only thing that brought him home. She missed it when it was just them, living in cushy one-bed flats in the outskirts of farming towns.

Now, everything was different. Her room was the twice the size of the average living room, with three sofas and a HD television stealing half of her wall. Her walk-in wardrobe was probably about the same size brimming with designer clothes, shoes and accessories. The windows stretched from ceiling to floor, overlooking the acres of garden around the back of the house. Fields of freshly cut grass spread like butter on toast, a view worth having every morning she awoke in her four-poster bed. And even if she didn't want to wake up in the morning, she could drift right back to sleep in the silken fabrics.

She didn't hate it. In fact, she loved it. But she would have given it all up just to be with her father again. Before the time he made it big.

But now Jane only exacerbated the problem by freezing her income from poor school grades. All of her debit cards halted. When Jane said she was taking her money, she _literally_ meant almost _all_ of it. There was barely enough cash to buy herself a decent meal during school lunchtimes.

Luckily, Piper's new day job seemed to cover the costs quite well.

She shut the door and quietly removed the giant portrait of herself – painted only two years ago – from the wall by her desk. Behind the portrait was a safe, a code only known to her eyes, filled with random objects – some of her most favourite necklaces, letters, and a diary.

Now a bunch of stolen jewels would join the show. She shoved the bag as far back as she could push it before shutting the safe and replacing the portrait.

As if _being_ Aphrodisiac wasn't enough, now she was hiding her spoils of war in her _bedroom_.

Hopefully the maids wouldn't find out.

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**Sorry it's rather overdue, was rather caught up with real life, lol. Here's a bit of exposition for y'all. Thought it would be interesting to note how the hero, Jason, lives in a dump, whilst Piper, the 'villain', lives in the lap of luxury. ****I hope to continue this, I have a few ideas!**

**Hope you enjoyed it! Leave a favourite/ follow/ review if you'd like! **

**Thanks for reading!**

**~ GD**


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